Redeemer
by Morrigan428
Summary: The only survivor of the 3 brothers, Yazoo has formulated a new plan. Revenge never tasted so sweet...
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Mine? Don't make me laugh! is laughing anyway at the thought No profit being gained, and not mine (obviously). Do not sue me, please.

**Author's Note:** The beginning of an epic. I've been playing with this idea in my head... for oh a couple weeks. We'll see where it goes. The chapter titles are lyrics to the song "Propehtian" by Eternal Tears of Sorrow, which I sadly have no affiliation with either. Story will be specially edited for minors (aka scenes will be cut short from the lemon). Also, folks, my apologies about the spacing between scenes in these chapters. For some reason, the upload system on this website will not format it properly and everything runs together. Hopefully, the rulers will help.

Comments are welcome. It let's me know whether I should continue posting this.

**Pairings:** YazooxOFC and CloudxTifa, KadajxAeries.

**Final Fantasy VII: Redeemer  
Chapter One: A gap between the scenes - Severs the present and the time to come**

Cover it up. Out of sight, out of mind. That was the way these pathetic people worked. Blind-sighting themselves to every hardship they had faced - or were facing- until it stared them straight in the face.

5 years since it had happened. 5 miserable years waiting, planning and hiding. 5 years since big brother had murdered Kadaj. It _was_ murder. Yet these pathetic _humans_ celebrated his death. They honored the one who murdered his little brother. Then they casually forgot about the boy whose blood alone Sephiroth would reawaken in.

Any of them could have done it, but Kadaj alone was the most like him. The one mother loved most. The one mother chose. He felt bitter about that. He felt bitter about many things. The way how everyone quietly forgot Kadaj. Quietly forgot Sephiroth. Forgot mother and her legacy. These fools even forgot her greatest reminder - the Geostigma. More important he was bitter about not being the chosen one. Mother had even rejected him from the afterlife. He understood Sephiroth now. Oh, how he understood now! Sephiroth was no longer in his heart. No longer whispered in his dreams. Mother no longer spoke to him, in his mind. It was quiet now. Just _his_ thoughts. Only _his_ desires. Nothing but _his_ memories. Now he was just like _them_. But now, more than ever before, he understood mother's hate for this planet, and it's inhabitants. He understood Sephiroth so well now.

7 years prior something similar happened. Shin-ra. They had forgotten about it too. Then the Geostigma appeared to remind them. It served them both right for getting it! For suffering just a taste of what he had at their hands! But they had forgotten that too. Not everything he was aware of, as there was some things even _they_ could not forget. But it was covered up. They made it "better", so they could pretend to have forgotten it.

"Shin-ra...", he hissed involuntarily at the name on his lips in midst of his revelry.

He remembered them. He remembered every last detail! After all, they made him that way. He remembered every bruise, every cut, every needle, every electric shock. He remembered every "experiment" and "test" they had run, and every word those disgusting scientists and doctors said. When he was a child he had cried. He was vaguely aware, somewhere in his instincts, that when he was hurt, someone _should_ have been there to comfort him. But there was no one to comfort him. Nothing but a dark room of metal and four walls with a barred window to keep him company. Eventually, the tears stopped flowing. The desire to know why they were doing these things to him went away. That was when the hatred began.

He began to understand. He wasn't like them. To them he wasn't human at all. Just a weapon. A _thing_ to them. They even noted the drastic change in his personality. The day he went from being a simple boy, confused and hurting to stoic and unevenly calm. The day he made up his mind to never cry again. No matter what they did to him, he would never give them the satisfaction of shedding one more tear because of them.

It all happened the one night he listened to them. No matter how badly he shook and his body pounded with internal pain, and that voice - that ever present voice called him, he listened to them. He commanded the voice to quiet, and it did to his surprise, and he heard them. He learned why they hurt him. Why they treated each other with so much respect, and him like a mere rodent in a maze. He also learned there were others like him that night. His first time with this knowledge was the doctors discussing "subject 1 and 3". Then he heard heavy footsteps, and thrashing. He heard a group of people entering. He heard someone crying. Then he heard someone else - screaming. Two doors opening. One next to his, the other across from him. He could not see through the metal, but his keen senses could hear it.

The one next to him continued crying. An older voice punctuated at times with a moan of pain. Then across the way it sounded like a tornado had been let loose in the cell. Banging, clanging, thumping, things being broken. The silence was then broken by the thing that forced him into his resolve, a child's voice yelling, "Get out of my mind!"

That was when he was 13. That was when the tears stopped flowing. Another 2 past and he would finally meet the other 2 on a combat field. The older one seemed to have 2 years on him, and he appeared to be 2 or 3 years the senior on the other. They fought like a pack of wild dogs. That was what they had been trained to do, after all. That was what they had been made for. To kill. However, they were told not to kill the other. They were told they would be one day placed on the field together. This was just another "test". In the end, despite the oldest ones speed and strength, and his own agility and cool, calculating demeanor in combat, the youngest of the three had bested them. They were then led back to their cells. All 3 quietly would glance at one another through bloodied, bruised eyes. They said no words but that was when the bond had begun.

Two more years would pass, and they would still be forced into combat practice with one another. Each time the youngest would beat them. Each time he got faster and stronger. Each time he became more agile, more calculating, and each time became more aggressive. He quickly became the leader of the three, which the scientists noted with great enthusiasm. They had learned to communicate with one another during that time. Sometimes even though the camera would be on them they would talk among themselves. They gave each other names, Kadaj, Loz, and Yazoo. They didn't know why, but they wanted to be known as something other than Number 1, Number 2, and Number 3. They would wonder what it was like outside. If everyone treated them like this. At times it was just a comforting word when an individual experiment would be put upon one of them. They often turned to him because no matter how much it hurt, no matter what they did, he did not cry. He did not even scream out. Instead he let it well up within. He let each pain, each scar be his further resolve to do what the thing in his head whispered in his dreams.

Finally, the last of their experiments came just before they were let loose. Just before instead of going into battle to protect Shin-ra they ran. The scientists wanted to run another experiment. They wanted to make sure "everything worked right." They took them each to a different cell and waiting with in all 3 of them was a woman. He still could remember her. Staring back at him like a deer caught in the headlights. How she tentatively told him when he was done then she could go home. The bruises on her body when she undressed in front of him and lay his cool hands on her naked flesh. He remembered what it was like to touch her, press against her and derive for the first time, actual physical pleasure from this act with her. He could remember it so well. It had been the first time, and the only time their experiments were pleasant. He didn't understand until she would cry out in pain how weaker she was than him. How easy it was to break her fragile body when he would touch her too roughly, or let his rhythm when he was inside of her become too powerful. But yes, everything "worked" perfectly.

The scientists noted their different types of "copulation methods". It was also the first time he had done something better than Kadaj. Loz was a gentle kitten with the woman, practically making her the aggressive one. Kadaj... had problems. He "worked" but it took him longer than Loz or Yazoo. It had nothing to do with foreplay, he just could not sustain himself long enough. It took 2 hours just for that. Then when he started Yazoo could hear her screaming, not in ecstasy but pain, begging him to stop for what seemed an eternity. No matter how much she pleaded and screamed he didn't stop. He either didn't know any better, or what Yazoo figured was the reason, he just didn't care. He hated them too. He hated them more than Yazoo did. All of them. They watched the thee with them. Like they were putting together a scientific equation because of it. He had listened to the conversation as he had been doing for well on 9 years. "Subject 2 will be a breeder," he heard afterwards when in their cells.

A breeder? What a fascinating idea to him it was. An idea that still captivated him. When they were let out, they ran. They took off in the night and ran. Shortly later, was the explosion. After that, another voice entered their minds and hearts. It wasn't the one they had come to call mother. It was a male voice. Just as poignant, just as intoxicating. They found a place away from the fighting, where the trees glowed and a shell like structure came from within. So calm, so peaceful - and none of them came here. Except one. Only one. A blond, spiky haired man with mako eyes. Each time Kadaj would see him he would put his hands to his head whimpering, whispering "go away". Each time Yazoo seen him, a spurt of hatred ran through his veins. Not like when he was being tortured by the Shin-ra company... but something deep within him screaming for vengeance. But he would tell it to go away. Tell it to leave him alone so he could watch him. It would always obey. After a year of this, Kadaj seemed to get a hold of his senses. Kadaj seemed more - tame. He wasn't sure if that was because they were gone from the labs and it's torments, or if it was just because he was collecting himself. But through this time, they had come into a pecking order - sort of like a wolf pack. Kadaj was the unmistakable Alpha while he and Loz interchanged places as Beta and Omega. More often than not the Omega fell on Loz's shoulders.

He was still too sensitive to the world. Too easily hurt. He heard mother too... he couldn't control mother in his mind. It didn't help that they stood out so much when they went to get food and supplies. Their silvery moonlight hair and shimmering cat-like eyes forced them to be the object of everyone's fears and fascination. On one hand they were just orphans to them, worthy of pity, on the other, they were - different. Humans didn't like different. They didn't beat them, they didn't make them fight, they didn't puncture them with needles, but they talked. They sometimes ran from them. It was only the children and at times, the women who seemed to have any amount of tolerance for them. Some of them even approached them, tried to flirt with them or ask if they would need anything out of kindness. Loz would hunch over or roughly tell them to go away, Kadaj mocked them or ignored them, but he welcomed them. He had figured them out. Or maybe it was just because he "worked" better than than his brothers did.

But he was also slowly forming a plan. Kadaj had his own plans. His own reunion, and they all wanted to be like mother. To see the wonders mother had seen. Kadaj's plans always were better than his. So, he followed him to whatever end. They protected each other and they, dare he think it, loved each other. The only reason why he stopped short of the thought, was because he knew the simple fact - they were built to kill, not to love. Yet what else could it be? He had rarely known any other kindness but theirs. They had never known any other kindness but his. But then their big brother eliminated those plans. He murdered his brothers all in the interests of saving these miserable tyrants. These _weak, forgetful_ tyrants who made them and now when they had no need of them anymore, tried to destroy them. Well, he was aware that he was not a thing. He was not one of them really either. He was - something else. Stronger, smarter, more agile, more unique - more dangerous.

When that blinding light came he heard mother's voice clearly, but she told him to go back. He didn't want to go back. But he did. When he woke, he was there. Back at what they called "The Forgotten City". He lie floating in the water. Nearly drowning when he opened his eyes and not realizing he wasn't on solid earth. It took days, even with Cure materia to heal himself back. When he did he looked for his brothers, but they were not there. He was alone. Alone in this cold, unfeeling hateful world. A world he now had to make a living in. At first he dyed his hair black, and requested specialized contacts for his eyes. When he made these changes he blended in almost perfectly. Almost. His feline grace still made him stand out. His never perishing beauty swept by causing either sighs or glaring. Children embraced him when in their play. Women came to him and men tried to befriend him. But darkness was in his heart. A heart of black. He allowed none of it. He would pat the child carefully on the head, shrug them off and press on. He would get up and walk away without a word when one of the women approached him. He had been known to start a bar fight when one of the men got too friendly. He finally left the town and went to another. He let the dye wash out of his hair, yet kept the contacts in. Still he could blend in. After all, his eyes did not frighten them with them in. It was his eyes that were a dead give-away. Finally, he went back to that town, for work. Again, he dyed his hair black. He had come to be known as "The Man in White", after leaving his black leather behind for the sake of blending in better, or at least leaving the world he knew before in the past.

He had found a new job. Computer analysis. He caught on quickly, and it annoyed him with how boring it got so soon. He continued in this shell of living, until one day his plan came back to him. He saw _him_ again. He saw big brother on his motorcycle delivering something nearby. Impulsively, he stepped outside for some reason to follow him. He didn't have his guns anymore. He had no weapons at all. He got down there just as big brother got on his bike and drove off. He cocked his head to his side, a rising amount of not only fury but an insane desire for justice to be done permeating his senses. Then, something bumped his foot. He looked down and seen a yellow ball next to his foot. He looked up to see a child running towards him. His plan came flooding back to him. The intriguing idea fleeted into his senses, nestling there and staying. He picked up the ball and when the child reached him, he let a small twitch on his lips reassure the boy when he stopped, looking as though he was unsure if he could really trust this tall man in white or not. He held the ball out of him, the boy actually smiled at him! Something he almost laughed aloud about. Then after regaining his toy, took off with a thanks.

He waited, but mother did not whisper to him. He waited and that feeling that was undoubtedly Sephiroth did not surface. Both would try to tell him it was a horrid plan. A _human_ plan. But the thing was he knew it perhaps was, yet there was some mad logic to this race. A mad logic he was going to take advantage of. He would not deceive unlike Kadaj. He would not try to huff his way through it and beat the pulp out of anyone who got in his way like Loz would. No, he would do this, _his_ way. It didn't matter what mother wanted anymore. Mother rejected him, in favor of Kadaj. She in turn rejected Kadaj for her beloved Sephiroth. Now it was his turn. And no one... no soldier that ever will be or ever was, would stop him. He WILL succeed, if even partially.

He went back up inside and into his apartment. He sat down on his bed and looked about him calmly. He leaned back against the wall the meager bed was pressed against, folded his arms behind his head and smiled. He whispered into the air, "You're not going to like it. But just watch." With the words he swore he could feel lifestream energy wisp around him in a reply.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** No ownership. No profit. No infringement. No money. No pasta. No jellybeans. No suing.

**Author's Note:** I had a hard time with this chapter, so I apologize if it's sucky and short. Plus, not to spoil things for people, this fanfic is going to span over several years time (not writing wise - but timeline wise), and yes, the last chapter is in fact already finished.

As always more are welcomed by all so I know if it still stands of interest to even one person. The chapter titles are lyrics to the song "Propehtian" by Eternal Tears of Sorrow, which I sadly have no affiliation with either.

**Final Fantasy VII: Redeemer  
Chapter Two: On the layers of the outer heaven - Hidden omens are found**

He spent months preparing. If he had been Kadaj, he would have been tracking and literally stalking big brother by now. But Yazoo, for the most part, considered big brother to be the last of his worries for the moment. For the moment. He saved up money, even at times going without meals for the sake of meeting his ends. What his intentions were going to be, he knew would take years, and would not be totally completed even his lifetime. It would make no sense, he was very well aware, to anyone who did not have to live with in his mind. Yet, in his lifetime he would achieve that which was the most important. But first things first, he needed weapons once more. He knew, he _counted on it_ that big brother would find out, and with it, he would come after him. When he did, he was going to be ready. Then when big brothers body was lying broken and bleeding before him would he know any satisfaction.

Therefore, for this reason he took several months gathering together enough gil that he could buy a new gun, a sword, a knife and bullets. He had browsed the shops, and finally, he seen one with the perfect gun for him. The perfect knife - all that was left was the sword. Kadaj deserved his enemy's blood to be spilled upon a sword. He was fully capable of using a sword. He just disliked them. With a gun you took a shot, and if it hit the target with the accuracy he had drilled in him since he was 3 years old, death was practically instantaneous. Unlike Kadaj who enjoyed watching suffering, in addition to inflicting it, all it ever did to him was remind him of some experiment or another. The memories therefore brought forth uncontrolled emotion, and emotion clouded judgment. Hate was the only sure emotion. Was the only thing that got results.

The day he chose to finally go out and get his weapons was punctuated with everyday, but pivotal things which he would recall in later years. As he walked to the weapons shop, his white coat fluttering behind him in the breeze, dusting his dyed black hair about his shoulders, he had seen Turks in the alleys. Not an unusual sighting, except it was the red-headed jackass he had fought 5 years ago on the day Kadaj died. Followed behind was the burly man in sunglasses, and then the two Kadaj took so much sadistic pleasure in torturing for information, beginning it all. Yazoo couldn't help stopping and glaring at them from across the street, then pulling his collar higher about him, huffed and pressed on.

As he entered the shop a bell clang overhead to alert the owner of his presence. Not that it seemed to have any effect. Yazoo walked around browsing. Detailing and being sure his initial desire was perfect for this one time purchase. Any other time, he wouldn't think anything of it, but Shin-ra was back, and cracking down upon "civilians" owning weapons. Having satisfied himself that the gun behind the counter, a silver gun much like he had before with a retractable blade at the top of it for close contact fighting, was what he wanted he eyed the display case for the suitable knife. It was then that a sword off to the corner caught his eye that was in the display case. Walking over to it, he stared in disbelief at it. It was the Fang Tooth Kadaj had used. There was only one like it in the world. Just one... Kadaj had made it himself when they had run. When Kadaj had formulated his plan. Perhaps this was his way of telling him he did approve of his own plan.

He heard footsteps coming his way and the shopkeepers all too eager voice speak up in front of him, "Just came in this morning. Unique piece... and as you can see practically never used."

Yazoo chuckled at that leaving the owner to give raise an eyebrow. The man bent over, slid the case back and put out on the counter for him to look at. As Yazoo reached forward, he couldn't help dwelling on the very sense of awe and amusement he had at this coincidence.

"Careful, that blade is rather sharp. Cut myself 3 times already just putting it in the case."

"I can imagine..." Yazoo replied absently, swinging it in he air in a practice move. The sword was such that only one of the 3 brothers could handle it without getting cut. Thus was the spell interwoven into it's very metal.

"We have some other ones too as you may have..."

"How much?"

He looked at the bug eyed shopkeeper. "Excuse me?"

"How much do you want for this?"

"Well, it won't be cheap, which is why I think you may want to look..."

Yazoo gave him a pointed look, that he could tell sent a wave of panic through the mans veins judging by how white he suddenly got. "I want no other. Gil is not an issue. What do you want for it?" He asked again patiently, turning his attention back to the sword which he turned this way and that to see the silver metal glow in the light. When he made no sound, he looked back at him, to find him just staring at him with an odd expression. There was fear in his eyes, and anger.

"I'll get you a box for it then."

Yazoo's eyes slitted as he watched the man walk over to a corner, pulling out a white box with shaking hands. Before he could walk back Yazoo called over, "Oy, and boxes for those too." he pointed at the gun and the knife with a blue handle behind the counter. The man merely nodded his head watching him out of the corner of his eye. When he came back he packaged them up.

"You still haven't told me how much..."

As the man slipped the last of the weapons in a larger bag for him to carry discreetly down the alleyways, he looked up at him and just shivved the bag at him. "Just take them! take them all!" then ran into the back room.

Yazoo cocked his head to the side listening. No sounds. Nothing. Just the man's breathing. As he opened the door clanging the bell again he heard a woman ask the man what was wrong, and him answering as he was shutting the door, "I swear, that funny customer in here just now... just like Sephiroth..."

The door closed out the rest of the conversation with an unattractive slam.

Sephiroth? Why did everything come back to Sephiroth? Yazoo started walking quickly. He felt angry. Anger and hate were the only safe things he allowed himself to feel anymore. He detested the feelings, yet on another level, he reveled in them. Sephiroth... No matter how much he understood him. No matter how much like him he knew he was - he absolutely hated the bastard.

* * *

Dusk was setting in. The cool of night would soon be here and the sting of the sun in his eyes would be gone. He had already stored his weapons back at his apartment, but he felt restless for some reason. So, he went for a walk along the shop ways and restaurants. Sephiroth still brooding in his mind. Was he the new Sephiroth? Would he be changed only to be slaughtered again before his plan was done? He couldn't imagine it, Sephiroth would be disgusted with this plan of his. So would Kadaj. No wonder she chose them. Destroy the world right? Why destroy it when you can conquer it? While this world swarmed with these humans, there was no way to get around them. No way to win against the Lifestream's protection of them, except, he knew by his way. His way the Lifestream had to accept what things would pass. It couldn't reject it's own children. 

It was just then that he looked over and seen off to the corner of the sidewalk a girl with purple, nearly black hair dressed in a checkered waitress outfit with two bags in her hands, being slammed into - on purpose by two people who were passing her. They smacked into her shoulders so hard she lost her balance and fell to the ground right on her butt. The ground was wet, not a good day for that to happen in your work clothes, he mused. Things had spilled out of one of the bags and the girl had just finished gathering it all once more and putting it in the bag, when he came upon her. Her leg was bleeding. He looked over noting the slight metalic glint of something stuck in the pavement. He stopped and held out a hand when she stumbled trying to get up.

She looked up at him with violet eyes. Her face was sort of pretty in a non-stand-out kind of way. She seemed to be completely thrown off balance again by his gesture to her. Yet tentatively, as if thinking it was a joke, she reached out and let him pull her up.

"Thank you.." she softly muttered, bowing her head hiding her features from his view. He frowned, and couldn't help wondering, outside of embarrassment, what the hell her problem was. He bent down, picking up her bags and handed them to her. Again, she quietly, almost apologetically, thanked him. He gave her another look trying to figure out exactly why this girl, in such a free willed country for women acted like such a... tentative creature. She didn't trust him. He sensed that in the air, he also sensed fear. He rolled his eyes and looked at the bleeding cut on her leg.

"I would see a doctor about that leg if I were you."

She nodded, and practically whispered, "Yes, sir."

He waited for her to do something. Continue walking, just merely look up, but she stood still as a statue. Subconsciously he noted the unusual pendant on a chain about her neck. A moon that seemed to be made of a material that glowed in the light of the now starry and moonlit road. For a fleeting second he was tempted to ask her about it. But she was acting so... weird for lack of a better word. He shook his head, and turned to go on. When he was merely a few steps ahead he couldn't help looking back behind him to look at her. She was just... odd. More so, than he thought he was. He at least attempted to blend in. When he did he found her staring straight back at him. He raised an eyebrow and seen her shoulders tense up and her nod at him. Then she put a hand to her heart and looked up. The motion was so sudden, he followed her gaze. He saw an unusual sight for this city. Several stars shooting across the sky. He looked back to where she had been, but she was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** Very, very short chapter. But eh, can't always have insanely long ones, you know. As always comments, reviews, feedback, etc is very welcome. The chapter titles are lyrics to the song "Propehtian" by Eternal Tears of Sorrow, which I sadly have no affiliation with either. 

**Final Fantasy VII: Redeemer  
Chapter Three: The one who seeks - May find the end of the line**

He was aware he was dreaming. This knowledge gave no comfort to him as he seen the images flashing. The lab walls were stark white around him. The air was cold on his naked chest. He seen a prod with a blue electric current buzzing in between it's two sides. It was being handed to a man in white who drew nearer and nearer to the him. Suddenly he was 10 years old again. As the man in white continued forward he began squirming in his restraints.

"No! NO! Please don't!" he started screaming and crying at once. On the other side of the room, he seen with blurry eyes another person in white watching then scribbling something on a stack of paper on a clipboard. A moment later, he seen a flash of white light as he felt more pain than he ever had in his life course through his body. The buzzing, became a screech to him.

The next moment Yazoo jerked awake. Momentarily confused about his surroundings he looked around his apartment, realization that the memory-dream was just that. He took some quick breaths, after realizing he was breathing heavily, and his bare body was shaking and sweating from head to toe. But the buzzing sound was still there. He looked over at his clock and seen it was 6:35am. It was just the alarm going off. Disgusted, and still shaken he switched it off, then collected himself in a tight ball. Absently, he rubbed a thick scar along his left arm where the real prod had touched him. It was times like this when he hated his perfect memory. Sometimes he wished he could be in an accident, so he could forget everything.

_You're such a strange one Yazoo. You'll take it without a tear, yet you're worse than a child._, he heard Kadaj's voice saying in his head. Another memory.

He closed his eyes, then reopened them. Every time he closed them he seen the prod advancing towards him. That was one of their worst experiments. Thankfully, it was the only time they ever did shock him like that. Afterwards they would tape sensors to him, and give his muscles a small shock to see if and how they reacted. A feeling that he was weak was overtaking his senses. It made him breathe hard again. He rolled out of the ball and on to his back, draping an arm over his head. He forced himself to be in control again. He had to remain in control. If he didn't, he might totally lose himself. He sighed and got up. He showered, dressed and forced a breakfast bar down his quesey stomach and went to work, immersing himself in it's tedium. Happy for it for once in a blue moon.

During his lunch hour, he was going to go to his usual coffee shop, and again, he seen people he least expected. Big brother, and a woman with blackish brown hair -Tifa, he believed was her name, surrounded by a couple of other people. He stopped short of going in at seeing them through the windows. Big brother was hunched over and blushing furiously, while Tifa was showing off a delicate little ring. The others around her were eyeing it and clapping them on the back or teasing at them.

"So, big brother is getting married." Yazoo took a sadistic pleasure in seeing how this situation apparently made big brother uncomfortable. Then he walked on, but he had a strange feeling he was being followed. He turned a corner and waited. But nothing. No one he seen was acting abnormal who past him. Then he heard a soft step at the other end of the alley. He peered down it, seeing a man in a red cape, a golden arm, with firey eyes, and hair just as black as his slowly coming towards him. Yazoo merely cocked his head to the side, letting a small smile come to his face. When the man was finally standing in front of him, he merely looked him up and down, then spoke in a deep voice, "I see one of you survived."

So, he knew who he really was. Fascinating. "Disappointed?" Yazoo asked sarcastically. Why did this man look familiar to him?

A small smile came to the other man's lips. "Of course not. After all, things would get a little too boring without Sephiroth's children popping up every 5 years." he answered back in just as a sarcastic voice as his own. Quickly he added in a serious voice, before Yazoo could make a comeback, "I trust you'll keep out of trouble. It'll be a shame if something happened to you after such a painful journey back through the underworld. For the moment, I'll pretend I never seen you. But if you make one peculiar move, I swear I'll shoot you with your own new shiny gun and gouge out your heart with it's blade in your sleep young remnant."

Then with a flick of his cape he walked off in the direction of the coffee house. Yazoo's brow furrowed. How did he know about the gun? Has he actually been following him all this time? Who was he? Then it hit him... He had seen him before. In a battle in the Forgotten City. He raised an eyebrow looking after the form retreating into the shop. He'll have to be more careful then. This was unexpected, but oddly thrilling.

He went back to work, noting two things. He had seen the Turk Elena talking to Rufus, who was being heavily escorted into a car. Then as he was walking back into the building he seen a slip of purple hair pass him. He couldn't help looking and indeed it was that strange girl from last night. She didn't see him, yet she still acted like the public made her nervous. He also noted the directed sneers and dirty looks people were giving her as she past. What exactly was it that she had done that everyone else treated her like they had him and his brothers back then? She reached the door and someone quickly hurried in and practically slammed it in her face. He seen her turn to look at the person, and the look in her eyes was something he knew all to well. Anger, hatred, a silent fury. She closed her eyes and bit her lip then went through the door and walked on quickly.

He stared after her. So, they were on the same page to an extent. Good, he wasn't alone in the world. He went inside. He thought about how to move next. He wondered would that man in the red cape suspect something? Must he fall back now that he was so close to reaching the more important part of his plan. The only thing right now he really needed to move forward? The only thing he really needed now, was a good woman. But which woman? There were millions to choose from. Somehow this knowledge made him slightly queasy and anxious at the same time.

He couldn't help wondering, was this going to be the end of things, or the beginning of bright new future for this miserable planet?


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:** I'm afraid this will be the last chapter to be insanely short. Too much material to cover in too little space now. :P Anyway, I have updated the first chapter's author's notes with the pairings for this story. My apologies to everyone. I think I've been writing original fiction for so long that I had forgotten how in fanfiction, people prefer to know what kinds of pairings they're dealing with, especially if there is an OFC being dealt with here. This will probably be the last time there will be author's notes on this story. So, here are warnings: sex, drama, mild violence, language, OOC-ness and reincarnation are within. This story is weirdly going to center more around Kadaj than anything else. My sincere thanks to those who have reviewed, and will in the future. I hope you enjoy the rest of the story. For those that stick with it, I'll appreciate knowing your thoughts.

**Final Fantasy VII: Redeemer  
Chapter Four: But the one who also sees - Makes out the meaning of the signs**

He had awakened with a start. He remembered seeing a child in the dream. He seen a place where the green mountains and forests met, but a desert lay on the other side. He seen shooting stars and mirrors. There was a woman, but he couldn't recall her face. That was what troubled him most of all.

He lay for a moment waiting for the dream to fade into the mists on his subconscious. All knowledge within it fading to black. But it did not - he couldn't let it go. If he could let it go, he'd know it was just a normal dream. If not, he knew there was something in it that would really happen. As he got ready for work he thought about it more and more. Never had a dream like this been so vague to him.

At work he went through the motions continuously trying to remember it. It was aggravating him that it was just beyond his grasp. He could remember so many things, but not this. Why did it seem so important to him he also could not figure out. By the time it came to go to lunch, his brooding started to show in the form of snapping at others and just being generally unpleasant. By that time, they had actually asked him to go home for the day. He knew when he was like that, he had the same presence as Sephiroth. That ever present ghost of the past. The knowledge served to irritate him further and he obliged them. However, once he had gathered his things and stepped outside, he felt tired once more. So, tired. But yet he was hungry, and unsettled.

He decided on a brief lunch in a shop where the TV was always blaring. Nothing like a good news report or random show to pound in your ears to keep most other thoughts out. He needed the numbness to gather his senses. He walked in and the heavy aroma of tobacco and food was in the air. The smoke was always choking but unavoidable. The news was on at this hour, showing fires and talking Shin-ra to the heavens.

He sat down at a table and ordered his meal, then settled in to just focus on the new report. Anything to avoid the images from his mind's inner eye. It was about ten minutes later when a report came on that caught his attention most of all.

"In other news, Shin-ra reports that they are currently looking into the origins of the Preegalinar, a race said to still be concealed in the remote area of Cosmos Canyon. While they declined to say why they are attempting to trace them, they have stated that they do feel it will be, in time be a great benefit for all of us. That always sounds good doesn't it?" ended the woman with an overly chippery voice and the camera then went over to a man.

He nodded, and with a planted smile on his face continued, "Indeed it does. Speaking of the Preegalinar, the outer government has sent in troops to an area where a band of them is said to be located. They say they have traced several terrorist incidents in the Golden Saucer area back to them. While the Preegalinar that were captured and allowed to be questioned by our news force, many of the Preegaliese were killed in the raid. The person who gave commentary said that they will deny all charges as they are, by all reason, a peace loving people. Well," he tapped his cue cards on the desk in front of him, "let's hope that's true. And now I think we'd like to know about the weather..."

"Bloody Preeks! They should just take the whole lot of them out. Filthy, backstabbing savages. All of them!" exclaimed a customer at the bar to those around him. Many seemed to agree with him.

Yazoo raised his eyebrows at this. Preegalinar? Why did the name seem familiar? Yet he could not conjure up a complete image of them. It was at this thought that the waitress brought him his food, which he ate absent mindedly. Somehow the numbness that was setting in wore off with this. Something in it brought more images back to him mind. Mirrors, a child laughing and a knife raised over the belly of a pregnant woman. Blood flowing on his white clothes. A child's laugh. He shivered, and just as she came back to see how the food was, he brought himself to ask, "Excuse me."

"Yes, sir?" smiled a bright eyed, brown haired woman.

"Forgive my ignorance, but I've been away for such a long time, working.. in an isolated spot. Pray tell me, who are these Preegalinar?"

Her face lost it's smile and a look of total disgust was on her face, "You must have been very isolated from society not to know that sir! The whole lot of them are nothing but a bunch of witches and savages. It's thanks to them that Sephiroth was able to get as close as he did to his goals. Hiding him out for all those years. Didn't know there were any of them left until Shin-ra came back again. Flushed them out in the open. That's about all I can tell you, but I think it's definitely enough!" She gave him a weak smile and walked off before he could ask any more questions.

* * *

After he had eaten he made his way home. Ever since his run in with that red caped man, Yazoo found himself staring at the tops or buildings or peering into the shadows to see if he was being watched. Yet somehow he knew that just like him, that person could avoid being seen if he wished. He would only find him if he wanted to be found. When he reached his apartment he washed up again. He felt strangely gritty for some reason, and also could not stand the smell of the smoke on his skin and clothes. When done he settled in to his bed once more. It seemed as though all the strength he had left him. It felt so cold for some reason, despite the hot air outside. 

What exactly was his goal in this revenge? Wasn't this ambition of his right up the lines with Sephiroth? Sephiroth wanted to be a god. Maybe this plot of his was just the last desperate pieces of the SOLDIER's consciousness taking hold. One last play for it all? Was this really _his_ plan? He knew the reason mother chose Sephiroth. It wasn't because he was stronger or older, or even smarter than them. It was because his plan was so deeply rooted that it shook the very core of the Lifestream itself. Would he now be given a chance to do what that man could not, but was it something the man had planned all along? Was it really just his plan alone? No trace of it hidden in his encrypted genes that it was something Sephiroth planned as well? He did not want to become Sephiroth. He wanted to stay Yazoo. Even this hatred burned hot in his veins and had become almost a delicate food to him, a reason for existing, he wanted more. He turned over facing the clock. Perhaps this play that he'd make for it all was rooted in that desire. A desire for more than this. Yet what more could he want? What more was there for one like him? Not quite human, not quite Cetra, a fallen Ancient who has diminished.

He would not abandon his plan. It was in fact fulfilling a deep rooted part of himself. To get back what was his. What should have been his brothers. He had no one to prove himself too. All he had was a dish best served cold. In time he found himself drifting off once more. The dreams returned. But he would remember them this time.

A woman called his name. Then in a darkened room he heard screaming, and the wail of a newborn baby. He kept seeing images of blood. Images of older ones with whitened hair. He would look up and see stars shooting in the sky. A child ran past him. He followed him. There was a wood, and by a log lay the Fang Tooth on the ground. The child stopped running, standing beside it. When he turned, his dream self stumbled back in shock, it was Kadaj as a child. No more than 8. He laughed. Then the boy ran off into the woods fading in the mist.

"I'm waiting," said a familiar voice behind him, and he turned to see the 18 year old Kadaj he knew so well staring back at him with a knowing look.

He seen his dream self touching a female body in his apartment. Seducing her into his bed. Then he heard another scream, the woman's once more. A room full of mirrors, where the moon shone down on her bed, she panted in labor, screamed in agony. Then all at once he was laying her on the far side of an inner pool, blood seeped through her clothes. He looked at his hands, they were covered in blood. He did not see her face at all, but for some reason she seemed _vaguely_ familiar to him. It was as if her face was obscured from his memory. When he had awakened he found his nails were dug deep into the sheets and sweat covered his body.

Sitting up he wiped at the sweat on his face and swung the blankets off himself. Getting up after staring at his windows where a light breeze blew the curtains in a rippling pattern, he walked over to it. The sudden air nipped at his skin cooly, and he drew the fabric aside peering out the window unashamed of his nakedness. Neon lights danced on his skin making a kaleidoscope of color that fascinated his anxious mind for a moment. It was night. How long had he slept? Closing his eyes he looked up. Beyond the towers of lights and the clouds he seen the moon, and about it stars shooting across the sky.

The sight both awed and hurt him for some reason. It also made him uneasy. Why were there so many falling stars to be seen lately. They weren't near an asteroid belt at this time of the year. There were no explanations to be had that he came up with. For some reason, in a brief moment that girl's image floated in his mind. Her clutching her heart as she looked upon them. He didn't know why and he even tried fighting it, but as he watched them now, it made him sad.

* * *

It was over a week later when he finally was able to gain enough spirits to handle things once more. He stayed home from work for 2 days as he was so wrapped up in his thoughts. The appearance of Kadaj in his dreams was no big deal to him. It's just it was always in a memory or something random. But nothing like that. Nothing that cryptic and etched into something like this before. He often had dreams that came true. He also could at times, even with as silent as his mind was now, occasionally hear the planet speaking if he let down his guard. He didn't want to listen to it, even when he had a feeling that right now he probably should listen to what it had to say.

He reasoned Kadaj's appearance in his dream had to mean something else. He wasn't sure what, but he had to. Yet he couldn't help relishing at the idea. Could he recreate Kadaj? Kadaj in a way where his interwoven destiny would not repeat? Could he turn things around for him? But again the thoughts were fleeting in their own repetitious ways. They kept coming back, but only for a few moments. Before he'd remember that it was impossible with out the experiments of Shin-ra. Before he'd remember he was alone.

Even though he was beginning to question himself, it made him more determined than ever to go through with things. It was a strange combination - self-conscious unease with himself leading to a greater will. But it proved best. To an extent it made him giddy with anticipation. The thing was, he believed he was starting to figure the things out in his dreams. If they meant what he thought they were implying, then his goals would be met - far beyond anything even he had originally ordained.

It was on his day off that he made his way to a restaurant that he had been eying recently. Just a simple diner, but he was trying to change up his regular haunts in favor of new places due to the inescapable feeling of being watched. As he went inside he couldn't help noticing the overly bright atmosphere. It was almost sickening. But he supposed these places had to be this way. A hostess seated him, and he was taken to a table practically in the middle of the restaurant. He could look out the windows, or if he chose watch the people behind the counter. A good vantage point he supposed. He would be able to see everything at once if he chose.

He was handed a menu and was just looking it over when a waitress came out from the backrooms with several hot plates balanced on an insanely large tray. Upon looking harder, he realized it was none other than the purple haired girl. He watched her curiously, and the wide-eyed or pointedly disapprovingly glares she was getting as she past when all at once he seen her begin to place the food around the table as graceful as possible, when she looked up at him and all at once dropped a whole plate of veal Parmesan on the floor, it was followed by the rest left on the large tray. Her eyes were wide in fear and shock as she looked at him, then down in dismay and embarrassment as the plates rolled down with a clanging sound and the food smacked on the floor with very unattractive plops.

"Gah! Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" she yelped out to the customer and immediately began bending down to clean it up.

Yazoo merely watched the scene with a blank stare, and watched as she continued apologizing to everyone around her, all the while glancing up at him as if she was seeing a ghost. The atmosphere was tense and silent for several moments. Then all at once the apparent manager charged forward seeing what was going on.

"My apologies sir and madame," he said with a fake smile, then hissed out through the grin, "your meal will be on the house tonight." Then he turned to the girl who was quietly putting plates back on the over turned tray and attempting to mop up with a simple rag into a pile the food on the ground. Yazoo found it surprising when the customers were actually giving her a degree sympathetic looks.

"Chi, you are a disaster! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?! One more screw up and you're out do you hear me?! GONE! I have no idea why I hired you, you sorry good for nothing fool!"

The customers she was attending were watching the scene bug eyed, along with the rest of the room. "Hey, no need to lay into her like that man! It was an accident." spoke up the one customer at the table she was next to, still silently, yet with her head now bowed gathering up the remains.

The manager shot him a look, gave a fake apology to the customer and stalked off, noticeably muttering, "Shouldn't have expected any different from a Preek!"

The gathering together of mess and plates ended with that comment. She merely sat on her knees for several long moments staring at the floor. The customers she was attending did nothing more than look upon her. They seemed confused as to whether they should regard her as some type of nasty insect or if they should be offering comfort. Yazoo eyed her with a degree of fascination, then as she had gathering what she could, she picked it up forcing her shoulders back in a proud stance. But her eyes betrayed rims of redness, indicating a will to cry.

She gave him another look and bowed in his direction, "My apologies for any disturbance this caused you." she bowed in as many directions as she could in turn, then with another look at him, clearly showing discomfort and an odd recognition that Yazoo hadn't noticed before went back behind the counter, into the backrooms again. She came back out moments later with a broom, dustpan and mop, and began cleaning the mess that remained up.

All at once it hit him, as she glanced at him full scale in the face. The light finally hitting her features in a way he could for the first time see her properly even with all the times he had run into her, it came to him. _She_ was the woman in his dream. A waitress came out of the backroom and to his table.

"Can I help you?" she asked too sweetly, eying the girl across the way.

An image of Kadaj fleeted into his mind causing him lose his breath for a moment and cough. The man smiled at him, the same smile he always did when he was actually happy that things were going the way they should, "I'm ready. I'm waiting." said a voice in his mind, that was undoubtedly Kadaj's.

Yazoo was in such deep thought looking at her that he jumped. She raised her eyebrows, her notepad and pen ready.

"No," he remarked bluntly, and nodded in the purple haired woman's direction, "but she can."

The woman's eyes got big and she followed his gaze to the woman who was now looking at them both with a mixture of confusion and a strange fright. The manager was out again and had heard this, coming to stride over to him. The woman looked to him for confirmation of what to do.

"Sir, this table isn't assigned to _her_," he nodded towards the lady with the mop watching the exchange with a look of pure dislike, "but this young lady can help you just as well, I assure you." He lay a hand on the blond woman's shoulder who was awaiting the turnout with interest.

Yazoo chuckled, and stood, "If that is the case, and after getting a recent display of how you handle your employees when they make a mere mistake, I think I've lost my appetite. I'll be leaving." He let the napkin he had on his lap that he had gathered in his hand snap on the table quite satisfactorily to make both flinch at the sound. He strode to the exit nodding at the young woman, who merely stared back in confusion, distrust and with odd look of satisfaction in her eyes. As the door shut, he also couldn't help noticing the smirks and whispers of amusement all around the diner.

"An impressive display I do say," came a deep voice beside him as he stood for a brief moment outside the diner.

Yazoo looked over, seeing the red caped man leaning against it's walls with crossed arms. He met his gaze, "Don't tell me, you're becoming sympathetic suddenly."

Yazoo merely answered with a sneer and chuckle, then turned and began walking.

"I have an idea what you are plotting," called the voice behind him. It made Yazoo turn around, with his eyebrows raised in skepticism.

"Oh? Do enlighten me."

The man came forward meeting him quickly, "Nice little family tree the kids will have. A psycho for a father and an insecure half bred outcast for a mother." Yazoo's lips twitched. "Don't worry, I'm not going to stop you," and he strode past him.

"Why not, if that is my plan as you have so brilliantly deduced?" Yazoo asked with an amused smile.

The man stopped and looked back at him with burning eyes. "Because there's no crime for starting a family. Besides, I have my own reasons for letting you, if I am indeed right. Just be careful for what you have planned for them, young remnant. You may get more than you bargained for, and twice as much as anyone - even you - can handle." Then he turned and melted into the shadows and the crowd.

* * *

Yazoo went to the diner across the street and when he was finished, he waited. Two hours later the girl emerged tired looking and downcast. He quickly made his way over and went up the street a bit, then waited for her by the entrance of a nearby shop. As she began to pass weaving her way carefully through the crowd, he cleared his throat to gather her attention. She stopped dead in her tracks her mouth coming open slightly, quickly adverting her eyes as she bowed in greeting. He merely eloquently extended his hand out to her. She stared at it for what seemed an eternity, weighing the possibilities - she knew it was an invitation, he could tell just she had no idea what kind - then she extended her own hand placing it in his own.


End file.
